


Hidden Valley High

by polymerases



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, High School AU, M/M, Multi, but then it's not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-27 08:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17763491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polymerases/pseuds/polymerases
Summary: Herein lies the best of Percy Jackson high school AUs: All-new introductions! Reimaginings of your favorite characters! Slow-burn romance! Obnoxious bullies! Non-world-threatening drama! But can the crew stick together when their mortal world comes crashing down on them, and the memories—and monsters—that came with their original world come flooding back?





	1. Percy

Hidden Valley High is exactly the type of place you'd think would be called _Hidden Valley High._ It's a towering glass-and-brownstone structure in the middle of Manhattan, plastered with posters reading _Is Your Child Gifted?_ and _Accelerate Your Studies And Be Happy!_ There was nothing really 'hidden' about it. (Or 'valley,' for that matter.) All I knew was that it was modern and pretentious-sounding. It had a Starbucks on campus and like three indoor pools. Also, adding to the misery, I was about to start the first of one-hundred-and-seventy days locked within its shining glass walls, still sparkling from this morning's window scrubbing.

I figured I should get it over with, and I jogged up the steps without tripping once.

—

My first period of the day—AP Environmental Science, according to the crumpled-up schedule stuffed in my back pocket—took place in the world's most humid science lab. I have no idea why the teacher chose to have the dingy classroom right next to the second of the three pools and not, like, the shiny tenth floor classrooms with the ocean view, but I guess there's something for everybody. People were already inside, milling around in that indecisive way when they don't know who to sit with or what to do or what day of the week it is. A couple kids were already smirking in the back corner, near the lab tables—probably kids who had known each other since fifth grade, or something, and had never changed schools. Or friends. I wondered how they could do that.

Just then, somebody tapped my shoulder. "Hey man, were you gonna sit there?"

He pointed to the seat I was idling in front of. He was tall, even taller than me, with choppy sandy blonde hair and roguish good looks like a California surfer. Though his eyes were playful, they were marred by a giant scar that raked down his face, ending in a nasty bump on his chin. The look was an unsettling contrast with his cargo shorts and tight-fitting t-shirt, which framed his athletic body.

"Luke," said the guy, holding his hand out good-naturedly. If I had done a double-take, he didn't seem to notice. "Sorry. I should have started with that."

"Oh, no, you're cool," I replied quickly. I took his hand. "Percy Jackson."

"So, Percy Jackson, were you planning on occupying this seat here or should I be joining the sheep over there?"

"No, you can have it, I was just standing here." I shouldered my backpack out of instinct, not that there was anything to put in it.

Luke grinned, dropping his books in a _thump_ on the desk. He pulled out the chair, collapsing on it casually, and heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Always gotta take the corner back seats. Old Posey never sees you if you're in the back." He took another look at me. "You new here at this beloved institution?"

I nodded and gestured to his pile of stuff. "I don't even know where you got those books." Meaning: _It's the first day of school. Why do you even have those?_

"You'll be fine. I'll get someone to show you around. Hey, Grover!" The last statement was directed somewhere away from me, probably at the throng of indifferent-looking teenagers waiting for the bell to ring. One emerged from the pack—a short, curly-haired boy with an oversized Rasta cap, almond-shaped brown eyes, and a cheerful smile. He couldn't have been more than seventeen, but he was cultivating an impressive goatee on his chin.

As he came into full view, I realized belatedly that he was limping: he had a leg brace on over his jeans. I gave him an apologetic smile as he struggled to get past a gaggle of giggling girls, who were too focused on some Instagram to make way for him.

Luke nodded at me. "Grover, this is Percy Jackson. He's new here. Figure you can show him around?"

I grinned and held up a hand. "Hi. I'm Percy," I said, extending my hand.

Grover grabbed my hand and shook it vigorously, and for a second it occurred to me how cold Luke's hand was by comparison. "Hey there, Percy, so nice to meet you! Yeah I can show you around, be happy to. Class is gonna start in"—he looked up and around confusedly, then glanced quickly at his watch—"like a minute, though, so I'll just find you after class. What's your next period?"

"Uhhhhhhhhhh English Four honors. With, uh—?"

"Halkias!" beamed Grover. "Ms. Halkias is the nicest teacher on this campus. You'll love her."

" _Ay ya ya!_ She's a fiery one," shouted Luke from the chair, and he mimed fanning himself.

Grover didn't look back at him. "Luke has a thing for her but I don't think he realizes it's illegal," he said without smiling. I laughed, and after a second he broke and started laughing too. Grover was the kind of guy who just made himself comfortable with you, and by some black magic, you felt just as familiar with him. If anyone could get me through this school year, I hoped it was Grover.

"Anyways," Grover continued, "I have English with you next period, and so does Luke. And a couple other kids in here. I'll walk you, let you see the sights. Cool?"

"Cool." We shook on it right as the bell rang.

Everyone stilled. There was a second of bated silence, and then _THWACK!_ The door burst open and the smell of the pool next door came pouring in again. Along with the humidity came a man, lean and tan and tall, with salt-and-pepper hair and the brightest green eyes I'd ever seen. He was wearing flip flops, khakis, and a blindingly colorful Hawaiian shirt with a pin that said _Don't Panic!_ I liked him instantly.

"Hello, A-P-E-S class of 2019!" he bellowed. The class laughed unsurely and parted in front of him as he strode in. I wondered if I was supposed to cheer.

"My name," said the man as he took his place at the front of the class, "is technically Mr. Posey, but you can just call me Posey. I'm your AP Environmental Science teacher this year, as I will be for many others in many other years. I see you are all standing awkwardly waiting for me, like sea cucumbers on a bumpy rock. Ha! Ha! I laugh at my own jokes sometimes, you'll get used to it. Anyways here's a seating chart I made five minutes ago."

Oh my god. I could get used to this.

The class started milling around to find their seats, so I had to pick my jaw off the ground and follow them, but believe me when I say I'd never been more excited about a teacher. I found my chair near the front and waited for the rest of the class to get organized.

A girl slid in next to me. Somewhere between emo and punk, she looked as if 1998 had never died. Her backpack clinked with dozens of band pins that I'd never seen before, and her eyes—stormy, shocking, electric blue—were lined with jet-black eyeliner. A silver circlet crowned her spiky hair, and I was just about to wonder what it was until she looked right back at me.

I raised my eyebrows at her when she started frowning.

After a long second, I broke the silence. "Uh, hi, my name is—"

"Percy Jackson, right?" she asked suspiciously.

I blinked in bafflement. "I mean yeah. Yeah. Wait, what? Who are you?"

"Guess."

"Uh…" I racked my brain in desperation. How did she know my name? Why wouldn't I know hers? "I—I don't know. I'm sorry. I don't think I've ever seen you before." Had I?

The girl's face clouded over, and quickly she arranged it into something resembling embarrassment. "Oh, sorry, I think I heard someone say your name somewhere. I didn't mean to—"

"No, I get it, I think Luke might have shouted it like a dozen times right before class started."

She nodded and gave a light laugh, but I saw the doubt in her eyes. "Yeah, that must have been it. I'm Thalia."

"Percy." I shot finger guns at her because it was the only thing I knew how to do. "But you knew that already."


	2. Percy

Thalia didn’t come along to my second period. Grover and Luke did, though, and we walked out of Posey’s class together. They immediately made a beeline for the elevators—our next class was ten floors up—and I made a face.

“What’s up?” asked Grover, looking back at me.

“Hate elevators,” I mumbled. Something about the sweaty, confined space made all my nerves crawl out of my skin. But I followed Grover into the elevator to the thirteenth floor anyways. I just made sure to position myself by the corner with the buttons. Right when the doors were closing, a burly red-haired girl, who I recognized from Posey’s class, called, “Hey, wait, hold the car!” I happily reached over and jabbed the ‘open’ button a couple times.

She nodded gruffly at me when she entered, then immediately turned to face Luke, backing me further into the corner in the process. I frowned at the back of her head. “So, how’s Arndorfer feeling today?” she asked him. “Are the new recruits hanging?”

Luke shrugged indifferently. “I don’t know. I need a couple more strong players, not these tiny freshmen we’ve been getting.” He leaned over andeyed me with interest. The girl followed his gaze, looking surprised when she saw me as if she never fully registered that I was there. Luke continued: “New guy might be good material though. He’s tall enough, at least, I can’t really say that for the freshmen.”

_Good for what?_ I shouted in my head. They sounded like they were preparing people for a sacrifice. I looked over at Grover for help, but he was busy adjusting his hat.

The girl snorted. “ _Him?”_ she demanded disbelievingly. “He looks like he’s never taken a hit in his life. He ain’t gonna hang.”

“Can you hang, Percy?” asked Luke.

I tried to look up at Luke around the girl’s shoulder. “I—hang with what?”

Rolling her eyes, the girl turned away, but Luke just gave a laugh. “Football season, man. Biggest game of the year is in two months. When all the seniors last year left, our team took a huge hit—“

“Yeah, right,” spit the girl. “They weren’t shit.”

“Not even Beckendorf?” challenged Luke.

The girl paused. “He was the exception.”

The elevator dinged, and we filed out onto the thirteenth floor. Luke lagged behind the girl and turned back to me. “Anyways, Coach has been trying to whip the new freshmen into shape. But it’s…” He searched for the word. “Not easy. Grover’s seen them in practice, hasn’t he?”

“Bla-ha-ha! Not good,” shuddered Grover. It was an explosion of noise unlike anything I had ever seen today. I was kind of impressed.

“Point is, can you hang, new kid?” asked Luke again expectantly. He seemed to already know the answer, which was messed up because I didn’t really know it myself.

“I swim, I guess. I’m a sprinter.” 

“How well?”

I thought about it. “League championships.”

Luke nodded philosophically. “Hmm. Yeah, that’ll work,” he mused, holding open the doorway to room 1301. I ducked his arm and went in. “Meet me tomorrow after school for football tryouts. We need a bit of new life in that program,” he called after me.

“Will do,” I called back. I didn’t remember ever taking an interest in football, but maybe if Luke thought I was good enough…

Grover was at the front of the classroom, talking with someone I figured was the teacher. She was built small, about my height, with red-brown hair braided back into a ponytail. Grover gestured over at me, and she turned to survey me. Her eyes were warm and cozy, a shade of melted brown so warm they were almost red. “Hello, Percy Jackson,” she smiled. Her voice was low and elegant, a dramatic contrast from Mr. Posey’s booming presence. “I am Ms. Halkias. I teach English and poetry here. It’s a pleasure.”

“Nice to meet you,” I managed, shaking her hand.

“What school did you come from?” she asked inquisitively. “We have a couple new seniors transferring in this year, but that’s a rarity.”

“Oh, I—“

Something seemed to occur to her, and her eyes flickered momentarily. She interrupted me quickly: “Well, it’s not important anymore. You’re here now, and we’ll do our best to make you feel at home, isn’t that right, Grover?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he promised her brightly.

Ms. Halkias looked up at the clock. “Oh, it’s almost time for class. You better take your seats. I’ll see you later, Percy Jackson.”

Grover and I walked back towards the tables. He found a spot with two empty seats near the front, and I sat down between Grover and a girl with frizzy red hair who was occupied with her doodles. “So who’s that girl?” I asked Grover finally, motioning at the back where Luke and the girl from earlier were joking around together. 

Grover didn’t even need to look back before he raised his eyebrows at me. “That’s Clarisse la Rue. She’s the only girl on the football team, but she’s there for good reason. It’s best not to cross her.”

“I wasn’t planning on it. But I’m pretty sure she hates me already.”

“Oh, she’s just like that,” said Grover dismissively, but he looked away and adjusted his hat nervously. As the bell rang, it occurred to me that Grover was probably the worst liar I’d ever met.

The class quieted. Luke and Clarisse murmured something in the back. Ms. Halkias rose and took her place in front of the whiteboards, surveying the class. “Welcome, class. My name is Ms. Halkias, and I will be your English IV teacher this year. I assume many of you know each other, but those that do not may save their introductions for _after_ class.” The last phrase was aimed pointedly at Luke and Clarisse, who were still whispering to each other.

I turned to watch them. They didn’t seem to hear her. After a pause, Ms. Halkias continued anyways: “We will begin our survey this year by analyzing the works of Homer and his classical Greek contemporaries, and end it with Steinbeck, Fitzgerald, and modernist American works. Can anybody tell me Homer’s two major works, which are considered his magnum opuses?”

The girl next to me raised her hand. I turned around again to face Luke and Clarisse. One said something to another, and then they burst out in laughter. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “Hey, guys, can you just shut up?”

Beside me, I heard Grover inhale sharply. The class went silent.

Clarisse sneered at me. “Prissy boy is a goody-two-shoes, huh?” Luke’s face was unreadable as he regarded me carefully, but eventually he forced a smile.

“No, you’re right, Percy Jackson,” he said slowly. “Sorry, Ms. Hotcakes, I’ll be more respectful.”

Ms. Halkias had an amused look on her face. “Appreciated, Percy Jackson. Bold move, though that was not the correct answer.” She moved to the whiteboard and wrote _Odyssey_ and _Illiad_ in beautiful cursive. The girl next to me cursed and put her hand down. “The _Odyssey_ and the _Illiad_ were what we call epics, long poems with occasional bits of structure to facilitate the oral tradition of storytelling. Yes, Ms. la Rue. You may not be in Atwood’s AP Literature, but I still expect excellence from you all.”

Clarisse scowled and said nothing. When she realized I was looking at her, she glared at me and mouthed something foul. I don’t know how to read lips, but even I could make out the two words she hurled at me.

“Good riddance,” murmured the girl next to me. For the first time, I got a good look at her face: pale and smooth, splashed with freckles. Everything she owned seemed splashed with paint in some way, from her sneakers to her overalls to her phone. Her eyes were startling green and hazel, and when she looked at me I felt probed, like she didn’t see me as much as she saw a collection of colors and lines to dissect. She scribbled something on her notebook and nudged it at me: _R U new Here?_

I nodded. She looked satisfied and wrote, _Makes sense. I’m Rachel nice 2 meet U._

_Makes sense?_ I wrote underneath. _Hi I’m Percy._

_Nobody likes 2 talk back to that B—_ and here she drew a long jagged line, which made me laugh. _New kids just Dont know any better :)_

I reached for the notebook. Just then, without even turning from the board, Ms. Halkias called, “And I’d appreciate if you stopped passing notes, Percy Jackson.” The entire class laughed, and I flushed up to my hair and sank down into my seat. She had the kind of rebuking tone that could make a hardened criminal want their mothers. I could feel Luke’s eyes on my back, but I didn’t want to turn around and give him the satisfaction. Rachel shrugged and went back to drawing, this time sketching out the jawbone of someone who looked a lot like me. Underneath, she labeled it _Prissy._

I was a little relieved when class ended, not because of Ms. Halkias, but because Clarisse kept on crowing, “Prissy boy!” whenever Perseus was mentioned. I fished my

“What’s your third period? Oh, Government.” He thought for a second. “That’s all the way down on the first floor, but I’m on the tenth for Home Economics. I’ll at least walk you to the elevators.”

“Nah,” I said, surprising myself. “I’m just gonna take the stairs.” I hated the elevators, but was I really going to walk down thirteen floors?

Grover raised an eyebrow. “Okay, that’s cool. Do you do that a lot?”

“What, take the stairs?”

“No, get ahead of yourself.” It was an obvious allusion to me shouting at Clarisse earlier, and I bristled a little.

“I just don’t like bullies, is all,” I replied hotly.

He shook his head. “Bla-ha-ha!” There was that strange laugh again. “You got invited by Luke to be on the football team, but Clarisse is gonna make your life really hard. I don’t want you to get murdered on your second day of school.”

“It’s okay, I think I pissed them both off,” I muttered to myself, but I guess Grover pretended not to hear because he just shook his head and led the way out of the classroom.


End file.
